Nature's Fury
by RisemboolRanger
Summary: Drabble (Flash Fiction Project). Side story to "Rush Hour". A storm is just a reflection of nature's fury. When you've had a tough day, there's nothing quite like enjoying the calm after the storm, especially when the calm is shared with someone you love. Ray/OC


I hit the floor again, the pole toppling out of my hands and rolling away. This time, I chose to stay down. Every single part of me ached. I could swear that even my eyelids ached, probably from constantly blinking away sweat. Grim, but true. Some work-outs really were the whole blood, sweat and tears deal.

"I'm just going to sleep here until tomorrow," I decided.

A strong hand was extended to me. "You want a hand up?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to move yet. "I'll take a hand lying down?"

"Alright." Anyone else would probably have told me not to be a baby and made me get up, but instead, Ray lay down on the hard floor next to me, looking up at the ceiling too, the barest line of our arms touching.

I glanced sideways at him. He was shirtless, wearing less than me in my sport bra and jogging shorts, displaying a perfect, hard expanse of abs, pecs and stomach muscles. I was pretty toned up for my size, but I felt like a string bean in comparison. He was the trainer this time, so he was much less sweaty, less bruised and less out of breath. I still felt my training was totally harder than his.

"I am so not cut out for the salmon ladder," I declared. I wasn't even disappointed by that fact. Just as long as I didn't have to go near it again, I didn't care.

"You'll get better with practice," Ray assured.

I made a face. "Pass. We're going back to your training tomorrow."

He chuckled. We lay there for a while, just staring at the ceiling and listening to the world pass by outside. A storm had started picking up. The harsh whistle of the wind drowned out the sound of the cars on the roads below.

"Y'know... I can think of somewhere far comfier to lie than on the floor," he ventured.

I turned my head and gave him a half amused, half suspicious look. "Just to lie, right?" It wasn't often I'd say no, but right now, I was just too stiff and aching to be up for further exercise, no matter how enjoyable.

He sat up. "Unless you say the word, lying it is," Ray promised. "Scout's honour." He even did the cute little hand gesture and everything.

I smiled. "In that case, it sounds good." I stretched my arms up, despite protesting muscles, and made grasping motions with my fingers, like a child asking to be picked up. "Now how about that hand up?"

He went one better. He scooped me up into his arms as easily as anything - the muscles in his shoulders barely even tightened - and carried me through to the bedroom. He laid me gently down on the large bed, on top of the covers, knowing I'd still be too hot to want to get underneath them. He dimmed the lights just a little before stretching out beside me.

I had to admit the bed was much comfier. I felt well enough to turn on my side towards him, twining one leg between his and letting my hand slide across his chest to the play of muscles bunched there. I'd always liked athletic guys, but Ray made everyone else I'd ever dated look like they were in One Direction. Don't listen to what they tell you - bigger is definitely better. Read into that however you like.

Ray's hand moved across my stomach, my ribs, my hips, gently massaging the blossom of bruises - both old and new. They were all from vigorous training sessions, but to anyone else, they would probably look concerning. There's a thing to bruises that if you poke them, they hurt, but if you rub them with just the right pressure, it's almost like a relief. Ray knew that pressure. It wasn't really surprising with the amount of bruises he'd been collecting too.

We lay like that, his hand gently massaging, mine more tickling. My eyes were closed as I rested my head against his arm. I was worn out, but not tired. Right now, I was just content. It was even more relaxing to be so snuggly and happy with the sounds of the storm raging outside. The rain had joined the wind now, getting thrown against the window in sheets that sounded like dozens of tiny bullets hitting the glass. The force of the wind threatened to shake the building, but you knew it wouldn't. It was just louder when you were higher up. A rolling snarl of thunder rumbled in the distance, which would soon grow louder as it came closer.

I liked storms. It was like the sky's release - nature unleashing all of its fury upon the earth, battering everything in a burst of uncontrolled tyranny, before eventually petering back out to quiet, wet and the smell of rain, having exhausted itself. Storm and then calm. It was a little like how I felt now, after my work-out. An hour of furious energy, strength and vigour that had soaked its way through to my very bones. And now, lying in bed with the man I loved, perfectly peaceful and with no other care in the world, except a passing thought for the storm.

Nature had it right. I snuggled a little closer to Ray. Fury was just a form of passion, after all. Fury and then peace. Passion and then love. It felt like a damn good way to live.


End file.
